


Serious

by Melisandre_deWinter



Series: Twin Peaks: Various JC Stories [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Song of Ice and Fire References, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire Fusion, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BAMF Cersei Lannister, Beautiful Golden Fools | Cersei/Jaime Lannister-centric, Betrayal, Biting, Blood, Business, Businessmen, Endgame Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, F/M, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, House Lannister, I am on my rosamund pike as cersei bullshit, Inspired by A Song of Ice and Fire, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Jaime Lannister Has Issues, Jealous Jaime Lannister, Oral Sex, POV Jaime Lannister, Partner Betrayal, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Jaime Lannister, Possessive Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Trichophilia, Tywin Lannister's A+ Parenting, Vaginal Sex, and jaime is feeling possessive, cersei being a girlboss, hashtag girlboss, yes this is inspired by marla from I Care A Lot being the modern Cersei
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:15:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29868309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melisandre_deWinter/pseuds/Melisandre_deWinter
Summary: “Stop letting your cock rule your brain, Jaime. Me cutting my hair has nothing to do with you.”“Everything you do has to do with me.”She takes a step towards him, fire in those green eyes...He wants to make her feel as slighted as he feels. But he can never say no to her. Even when she doesn’t look like herself anymore.(Modern girlboss AU)
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister
Series: Twin Peaks: Various JC Stories [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1249271
Comments: 14
Kudos: 33





	Serious

**Author's Note:**

> This work and particularly Jaime’s thought patterns are deeply informed by analysis I’ve done of the JC relationship from a relational psychology perspective, which you can listen to here: https://open.spotify.com/episode/2TwZFE6ue4sKC1XKrhcR1R?si=-UHucyHHRkSlssqrV68XjA or watch in a YouTube video here: https://youtu.be/vLi47CKhFPA

He buries his face in her golden curls, his favorite thing to do, but she swats him away. “Stop it, Jaime,” she commands him, and he scowls. “I have to get out of bed. There’s work to do.” She’s been so tense lately, ever since father announced Lanniscorp’s latest acquisition. She’s always hated working in their fashion event planning division, calling it “the pink ghetto” from day one. “If I wasn’t a woman he’d never have placed me there,” she’s complained ever since starting. “He’d have me in business, where I belong.”

“Where you belong,” Jaime always responds, “isn’t in business. You belong with me,” pulling her by her long hair onto his chest.

But now is her big chance. There’s an opening to run the business division, and her emerald eyes are fixed on the prize. She scoffs at Jaime and rises from bed, him watching the sunlight entering the window reflect off her hair and her naked, tan body. “You don’t understand, you’ll never understand...he’s always given you whatever you wanted, but me...he needs to see that I’m capable of moving into the business sector.” She turns around and looks down at the floor.. “I sure as hell can throw a wedding, he knows that. I can run things. Not just,” she scrunches her nose, as if smelling something rotten “ _frivolous_ things. Important things. He should know by now, I’ve done so much for Lanniscorp.”

Jaime sits up in bed, watching her put on her jade-colored blouse and black pencil skirt and twist her cascade of curls into a chignon. “I think you should just stop working completely...just be with me.”

Sitting at the boudoir as she fixes her hair, she turns around to glare at him, her eyes piercing him like daggers. “People talk...me being so beautiful and powerful but can’t keep a boyfriend…”

“None of my ‘relationships’ last either, Cersei. Every date is a farce. There’s only you…”

She cuts him off. “An unmarried man over 30 is a bachelor. An unmarried woman over 30 is a problem.” She slips on her gold rings and sighs as she gets up to leave. “You’ll never understand what it’s like not to be taken seriously just because of having a cunt. Being watched and judged. Being a problem.”

“I love you too, sweet sister,” he says, with a playful smile. She shakes her head at him in frustration, a stray curl falling out of her updo and over her face, before leaving. “See you at the gala tonight!” he shouts as she walks away, watching her give him the finger. 

If Cersei switched to the business division, things would be so much harder for them, Jaime thinks to himself. At least when she’s overseeing fashion events, Jaime can visit as much as he pleases and everyone assumes he’s there to see the models, without suspecting the truth. No one would ever believe Jaime Lannister, the least politically-minded Lannister, was visiting his sister at work to hobnob with businessmen and politicians. Sure, she’d be annoyed if she didn’t get a job at the newly-acquired division, but Cersei and Jaime comes before Cersei. At least, it _should_ , in his opinion.

*********************************************************************************

She must be really angry with him to have skipped the gala. Normally no matter how much rage fills her, she’d never pass up an opportunity to liaise with the elite, to flutter her pretty eyelashes and flip her long curls at whoever she needs to charm to get ahead. But Jaime doesn’t see her here tonight, and he’s looked all over. His heart is pounding, his face is flushed, but he can’t let his distress show. _Get a drink instead, calm yourself down_ , he thinks, and retreats to the open bar, keeping an eye out on the crowd for a head of blonde curls entering the room. 

Tyrion is already at the bar, as usual. “So, what do you think of our sister’s new hashtag girlboss era?” Tyrion asks Jaime, and snorts as he laughs. “What are you talking about?” Jaime asks. Tyrion gives him an incredulous stare. “You beautiful golden fool. Not even recognizing your own twin? I’d call her over, but we all know the sound of _my_ voice doesn’t exactly compel her. How about you call for her?” Jaime is still confused, but Tyrion is clever. Might be worth listening to him. “Cers!” he shouts.

He continues to scan the crowd and notices the woman standing next to Tywin shift her stance. She’s about Cersei’s height, holding a glass of wine, in an elegant black dress. Her hair is chic, but not to Jaime’s taste. He can’t imagine being with someone who didn’t have Cersei’s cascading blanket of long golden curls, and although he admires the golden color of the woman’s hair, the rest of it is too unlike Cersei’s for him to pay attention to. Silky straight and cut severely into a blunt bob, the hairline cuts off right at her chin and moves sharply when she moves her head, displaying all of her graceful neck. As she does now when she twists her head around her shoulder and quickly glances at Jaime before turning her head back away from him as quickly as possible.

Jaime drops the glass from his hand and it spills out all over the floor, the glass shattering. As everyone around them gasps and waiters come to collect the broken pieces, Jaime wants to storm towards her, to pick her up and shake her, demand an answer for why she’s done this to herself. To him. Tyrion looks at him warily and knows what he’s thinking. “Cool off...go upstairs, okay? Take some time to collect yourself before doing anything you regret.” 

Jaime knows Tyrion is right, and he rushes out of the room to the Lannister mansion’s grand staircase, pushing everyone in his way aside as he runs up and into the master bedroom. He has to be mistaken, he thinks as he sits on the bed, his head in his hands, breathing heavily. He must have miseen. That’s it, his mind was playing tricks on him. Cersei would never…

He hears the door creak as it opens. “Jaime...” he hears her voice say, and he looks up to see his nightmare is true. The woman he didn’t recognize, the woman who doesn’t match his ideal, the woman Cersei has become, walks into the room with some trepidation. A curtain of sharply-cut straight hair falls into her face, and she tucks it behind her ear as she starts to sit on the bed beside him. “DON’T!” he yells, and she arises, crossing her arms as she glares at him. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks.

“What’s wrong with _me?_ ” The question is so ridiculous to Jaime that he has to laugh. “What the fuck have you done, Cersei? What did you do to your hair?”

“Just because you’re stupid doesn’t mean you’re blind, Jaime” she snarls at him. “I cut it. I’m sorry that’s so offensive to you…”

He stands up. “But why _?”_ He walks closer to her and sees that her green eyes are damp with tears. “The open position...I need to be taken seriously if I want a shot at it. And father would never take me seriously with princessy hair. This haircut has _executive presence_ .”

“Executive presence?” Jaime rolls his eyes and then points to her dress. “You hate black.”

“Father said I look respectable in black” 

He rolls his eyes again. “Father, father, father. It’s like he’s the only person that matters to you. What about me?”

A wave of sadness washes over Cersei’s face, and he can see that she’s holding back a tear. “Of course you matter, Jaime. But he has power over my future. Over how others perceive me. He has power over everything.”

“I thought I had at least _some_ power over you.”

Cersei laughs, and seeing her laugh with her arms crossed, the ends of her short, straight hair slapping against her cheek, feels like mockery. “Stop letting your cock rule your brain, Jaime. Me cutting my hair has nothing to do with you.”

“Everything you do has to do with me.”

She takes a step towards him, fire in those green eyes. He doesn’t break his gaze. “You’ll have to have someone blow dry it to get it so straight like that each morning...I don’t want anyone touching your hair every day besides me. No one gets to touch your hair besides me.” The thought of someone else, some anonymous butcher, touching, grabbing her long curls and hacking them off earlier that day, taking away what belongs to him, makes him want to scream. 

“Then you do it,” she replies, arching an eyebrow. “I’m serious.” 

She reaches out to take his tuxedo jacket off, and he doesn’t refuse. As enraged as he is, he can’t resist her, and watches as she unclasps the back of her dress, looking at him with a playful glint in her eyes as it falls off her. At least one thing hasn’t changed: she has nothing on underneath. “Fuck me, Jaime” she demands. “Let me prove you still matter to me.”

He wants to say no, he wants to punish her for chopping off and straightening her hair, taking away his greatest delight— he wants to make her feel as slighted as he feels. But he can never say no to her. Even when she doesn’t look like herself anymore.

He grabs her chest to his and she wraps her toned arms around his neck, tilting her head upward and kissing him. _Punish her, punish her_ , he reminds himself, and bites her lip, keeps biting down on it so hard that it bleeds, but she doesn’t stop. Her hands work their way from the bottom of his neck up through his tangle of blonde curls, grabbing them so hard it almost feels like she’ll pull the hair from his head, until she’s leaning so hard into him that they collapse together onto the bed. Jaime sinks into the mattress as she kisses him from above, her blood on both their tongues and her bare breasts pressing against his bare chest; they are one. 

Jaime keeps his eyes closed to avoid seeing what he wants to forget, but feels the ends of her freshly-cut hair tickle his cheeks as she kisses him and unbuttons his pants, unfurling them off his legs. He gives his legs a final kick to shake them off, and then they’re both naked, intertwined, together, like the day they were born. Like they always will be, no matter how much she tries to change herself. 

She lifts her head up, gazing into his eyes from above. The unfamiliar straight short hair dangles in front of her face, and he tucks one side behind her delicate ear before sitting up, which shifts both their bodies into a seated position, kissing her hard as she wraps her bare legs around his chest, devouring her. With one hand she keeps grabbing his hair, while the other takes hold of his cock and pushes it inside her…”yes, yes ,yes Jaime, oh, _Jaime_ , yes” she moans, forgetting about all the people downstairs, forgetting about the rest of the world besides the two of them. He feels at home inside her; it doesn’t matter if her hair is different— she’ll always be home to him.

And anyway, hair grows back. 

After they’ve both climaxed, they lie together on their backs, still naked as the day they were born. Jaime turns to face her, and she turns her head towards his, the muscles in her neck tensing. He never noticed that happen when long curls covered her neck and chest. Annoyed with her betrayal again, he points, and she narrows her eyes at him mockingly before laughing. “Go on, touch it,” she dares him. Tentatively, he reaches out a hand towards her golden hair and twirls a chunk around his finger. It feels so silky and soft, but he pouts again when it takes so quickly to twist around his finger. Spinning yards of gold with his hands has always been his greatest joy, ever since they were children. If he’s honest with himself, it makes him harder than even fucking her does. But she’s stolen this pleasure from him.

He yanks the piece of hair he’s twisted around his finger and pulls her to him, embracing her, raking his nails up her bare back that used to be covered by curls, up through through the short hair on her neck, bunching it in his fist as he stares at her, refusing to kiss her. She just smirks through the pain, and when he releases the back of her hair and runs his hands through the rest of it, pushing it every which way around her head, it’s now messy, crumpled, no longer pin-straight like she’d intended. But she’s still winning, still smirking at him.

“Not so serious looking now, are you? “ he growls at her.

She doesn’t respond. Not with words. Just leans over and bites his ear before putting his cock in her mouth.

  
  
  



End file.
